Julie Leavitt
The Holy Receiver… The full activation of the entire body in holy actions is thus a therapy of total joy.-Rebbe Nachman
Centuries ago, the great Hasidic teacher, Rebbe Nachman of Bratzlav taught that you cannot have a spiritual experience without telling your body. His insight lies at the heart of this chapter.
Truly, we are our bodies. Genesis 1 states that we, flesh and blood human beings, are created in God’s image. Enlarging on this teaching, kabbalistic lore posits a correspondence between Adam Kadmon, (Primordial Adam) a humanlike configuration of the sefirot (divine attributes), and the integral structure of our bodies. If this is so, might it be possible for us to access this correspondence through direct experience, to sense the presence or absence God on a physical level?
As my Aunt Harice would say, “Good question, Julie!” She would say this with her whole body, raising her fists in the air and shaking them as if I had found the golden key to the next secret room. Perhaps our bodies are those secret rooms. Kinesthetic attention, the body’s listening sense, can access a profound spiritual wisdom and healing, and act as a doorway to the sanctum where God’s Presence always Is.
Breathe. Feel your breath as it leaves your body and returns. Take a moment, pause, close your eyes. Uncross your legs and open more fully to the sensation of your breath. Where do you feel the breath in your body? No special technique needed. Just take time to sense this breathful movement.
While you are here, sense your feet on the ground, your back against the chair or couch. Feel your weight however the furniture holds you. More than a head taking in ideas, you are a body engaged. Breathe, sense, center, ground.
Hineni- Here I am.
Hinenu- Here we are.
Excerpted from Jewish Spiritual Direction (JewishLights, 2006)
Ann Kline
“The caring listener must be willing to endure the ambiguity of the moment where there are no answers.”
From Companions In Hope by Robert J. Wicks and Thomas E. Rodgerson.
Our discomfort with ambiguity may be one of the reasons we may be so tempted in our responses to offer advice, ask for more information, or explore the speaker’s childhood experiences looking for clues. Most of us have been conditioned to believe that there is always a right answer to every question, a perfect solution to every problem. We believe that with effort and information we can always come up with the one right answer or solution.
Understanding the unfolding of our lives, or the lives of others, however, may require a different paradigm. Human lives present themselves not so much as discrete problems to be solved as unfolding stories asking us to participate in imagining what happens next.
We are asked to trust that beneath the seeming incompleteness and confusion of the moment there is a unifying wholeness of heart that can give us the courage to risk stepping out, expressing the truth of who we are.
When we share or when we respond to each other, we are encouraged to turn toward the depth and the mystery of our experiences. In our sharing together, we are not asking for answers or solutions but to touch the deep, tender and wonder-filled heart of our questions and problems.
When we do that, we are recognizing that each of us is already whole, already wise, and that each of us already has all that is needed to live our lives with grace, integrity and compassion. We can share and respond to each other confident that we each have what we need to find our own truths and to know the steps that come next in the dance of our lives.